


laundromat

by cornflqke



Category: Mimi wo Sumaseba | Whisper of the Heart
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflqke/pseuds/cornflqke
Summary: If Shizuku and Seiji remained mysteries to one another, simply names in each other's library books.
Relationships: Amasawa Seiji/Tsukishima Shizuku
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

The machines hummed, a hollow clanking as the interior mechanisms tossed clothes about in a soapy mess. Tiny waves of suds washed up against the circular window of the washing machine, along with glimpses of black, blue, and white clothing. 

Across from the washing machine Seiji leant against a bare bench where one would fold laundry or dump their basket while waiting. A battered paperback was held up to his face, nose almost touching yellowed pages as eyes sprinted over the cliffs of paragraphs. A thin Sekonda watch ticked on his left wrist, concealed by a sleeve of his jacket that once hung off him in his childhood; the other sleeve was oddly pulled up and bunched below the elbow. His long, lanky legs clad in black pants were crossed, one shoe absentmindedly tapping in time with the clicking of the machine across from him. 

It was silent, save for the churning of water and rusty tapping. 

He looked up from his page. Outside, against a grimy, clouded window, rain pattered lazily out of a muted grey sky. Early afternoon and lights were on indoors; tea was brewed, pens danced over pages. 

There were gasps of laughter as clusters of people made their way through the rain, sans umbrella. Glowing panels of light from the dorm apartment windows smudged into the grey, rendering all shapes outside to have a blurry edge. A single figure in a red coat made their way across the damp courtyard, head down and collar up. Perhaps they had come back from a catch up in a local cafe, or stopped at the library to return a book. Who knows. 

The door creaked open and his eyes instinctively shot down at the pages before him before he glanced sidelong at the person stumbling through the door. With a heaped basket of clothing, Shizuku shuffled through the doorway, letting the heavy thing swing closed as she adjusted her grip on the basket. Short dark hair, big eyes set in a determined gaze, small lips pursed as she wrangled the basket through the doorway. Seiji noted her short stature too. 

He returned his gaze to his book as her large brown eyes looked up to him. Shizuku continued to move down the narrow aisle between washing machines and dryers. Courteously, he straightened up from his slouched stance and pressed himself against the bench to let her through, slotting a finger between the pages of his paperback and letting his arms hang by his side. Waves of black hair fell into his eyes. 

She scuttled through. A muttered thanks. The whispering of her chunky sneakers against the linoleum floor. 

She set the basket on the bench beside him and went to work silently. 

Slowly, his lifted the book to his eyes again, attempting to resist watching the character beside him complete such a mundane task. Pale fingers fluttered over lovely bits of cloth; a white blouse, a red sweater, checkered trousers, dark blue socks. She stocked the machine methodically, constantly brushing stray strands of hair out of her eyes and behind her ears. She wore small pearls too. 

He trained his eyes back on the words in front of him. The printed letters, a few moments ago full of colour, had become black once again. He sighed.


	2. library at 3am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair run into each other in the library, a space they've unknowingly shared for years.

Shizuku bounced her knee in time with the music, bobbing her head and mouthing the words silently. 

Her pen spun between her fingers as she leant over the open notebook, scrawled with pencilled notes of nonsense. Even her print had turned to hieroglyphic scrawl. She set down the pen and lifted her fingers to her tired eyes, rubbing underneath comically huge circular glasses. Pausing, she rested her fingers in V’s under her eyes and stared out across the desk and the empty library. 

There was a single other soul visible to her now, sitting at one of the computers. His dark hair had been tucked beneath a red beanie and his chin tucked into his jacket as he somnolently clacked at the keyboard and stared at the screen in front of him. No doubt it was a last minute paper; why else was he sitting at a library computer at 3:30 in the morning?

Shizuku reached over and popped the lid of her thermos, bringing it to her lips and sipping the lukewarm coffee swimming with unmelted sugar. She frowned and set it down, remembering why she hadn’t drank any for the last few hours. The pile of books on various topics from geology to eastern european fashion next to her sat idly, taunting her and her unproductivity. 

“Shut up.” She whispered under her breath before reassessing her notes. 

The music sung in her ears while she skimmed over the mundane notes and illegible scribbles. Useless stuff. They barely made sense, and didn't fit into the plot at all. She'd have to scrap her whole outline and start fresh. 

Shizuku mumbled in annoyance and flipped the notebook closed, collecting the books and shovelling the lot into her satchel that was heaped in a puddle of cloth on the floor. She dropped her pencil case in as well, pocketed her Walkman and left her earphones in – taking one out to leave dangling – and grabbed her coffee. She strode down the aisle that separated desks and the computer docks, walking past the half-dead boy sitting at his last minute essay. 

As she walked he glanced up at her. She paused for a second at the desk. 

Seiji looked at his screen before sighing and sinking back into the desk chair, looking up at her. 

“Hi.” Even with this simple syllable, his voice cracked. His pale cheeks bloomed with pink as he frowned and shook his head. She took no note of it. 

“Hey. Last minute essay?”

He furrowed his brows. “Nope.”

“Class?”

“Nope. Music.”

It was Shizuku's turn to frown in confusion. 

“Sheet music.” He motioned to the screen. "I'm downloading sheets."

“Oh,” she shifted her weight. “...Do you want this?”

“Coffee?”

“Uh, if you can call it that.” She unscrewed the lid and peered at the brown opaque liquid sloshing around. “It’s not hot. And the sugar is all gross.”

“How much has it got?”

“What? Sugar?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, maybe like five, six, teaspoons?”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll take it?”

“Honestly, I don’t give a fuck for it’s temperature, all I need is the caffeine.”

She smirked and set the cup down on the desk, next to an open notebook covered in black pen markings. Casting a look at the sketches, she made out shapes of violins. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Maybe we can go get actual coffee sometime, instead of me giving you my shitty leftovers.”

“That’d actually be cool.” 

They smiled at each other before breaking eye contact. She leant down and grabbed the pen sitting atop his notes. He watched her inquisitively as she scrawled a set of numbers on a blank space of the page.

“Just let me know it’s you when you call.” She clicked the pen so the end retracted, and rolled the ballpoint pen back onto the page as she straightened up. He stared at where her number now was on the page. Then he shifted his gaze back up to her. Her hair was tucked back with a stretchy black headband. A white earphone sat nestled in the cup of her ear.

“What song?” He tapped his ear while nodding to her’s. She brushed the wire of the dangling earphone. 

“Oh, um, I dunno. I just kinda play this...” She pulled out her Walkman and flashed him the cassette. "Compilation? It's just American music."

“Oh, that’s John Denver, right?” Seiji suddenly beamed. 

“Is it?”

“Yeah! 'Country Roads?'" He chuckled, slipping off his beanie. "That song reminds me of a friend I had a couple years–" 

Shizuku's eyes widened. 

"–shitty translation into Japanese! I remember reading the lyrics–"

“It wasn't shitty!” Shizuku snapped. Seiji's smile dropped as he reassessed the girl before him. 

Damn it. Shizuku recognised the arrogant chuckle, the dark hair, the posture of the guy that used to ride past on his bike taunting her version of 'Country Roads.'

Seiji found it difficult to hide his own realisation that this cute girl in front of him was once the short used to shout at him as he rode by. 

He let out a breathy laugh. "Concrete roads? That was you?" 

She shot him a tight, close-lipped glare. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and he straightened up in his chair, sensing her desire to leave. “Well, I’m gonna head off.” 

He nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. "Um. Nice seeing you Tsukishima."

"I guess.” Shizuku nodded goodbye and started down the aisle again. It rattled in her head that she still didn't know his name, even this many years after the fact. 

He watched her go and smirked to himself before turning back to his screen. The thermos sat idly, and he eyed it carefully. They hadn't seen each other for years, and if his apprenticeship in Italy didn't fall through they wouldn't have met here either. And come to think of it, that girl in the laundry before did seem familiar, the quiet air of determination and vivacity that surrounded her even when completing a mundane task. She'd always been strangely magnetic like that, and that's why he teased her when they were younger. Any excuse to see her, or even speak. Borrowing books, shadowing her in the library, all tiny habits just to get a glimpse of her and her far-off world. And as a teenage boy, what else was there to do with unfamiliar feelings beside tease the girl you like? 

Seiji wondered to himself if he'd see her again. Then his gaze drifted over to the thermos. 

There was another excuse to meet sitting right there on his desk.


End file.
